Today, I want to participate of something freewriters used to do quite often, which is a WeWrite. This is a collaboration among freewriters to finish a story or at least try to make it round. This time, I am going to finish @owasco’s story
Here's @owasco’s story
To Elder, Sister always seemed to have dirt on her face. Others thought Sister was peachy keen, top of the heap, something to admire, to cherish, to laugh with, and to love. But Elder knew Sister was dirty dirty dirty, in the way only an older sister could know such things. A sister who had been stabbed in the back, time and again, from the moment Sister was born.
Of course, Elder wasn’t without her own unsavory identities. She was pretty sure that SHE was the peachy keen one of the two. So she devoted her life, from the moment Sister was born, to showing up Sister. This was easy in the intellectual department, because Sister’s aim was only moderately good when she shot from the heart. Elder’s aim was unerring when she shot from the head.
“What's that got to do with the price of eggs?” Elder asked, that time Sister was having a hissy fit about the ice skate.
“We’re not talking about the price of eggs!!” Sister stamped her foot, turned purple and cried.
Elder had perfected her smirk by this time, and smirk she did.
My finish
“It’s a figure of speech, you idiot,” Elder said, her smirk changing into disgust. I don’t know what people see in you. You are so annoying!” she remarked, dropping her old skates and putting on Sister’s.
“Yours are twisted and too big for me,” Sister cried holding the skates the way you hold dirty underwear.
“People say you’re smart. Figure something out,” Elder snapped and skated away. She joined her friends in the middle of the frozen lake and bragged about her new skates.
Sister sat down, still thinking about the possible connection between the price of eggs and the wily exchange Elder had just pulled off. It occurred to her that maybe she could return the favor.
Sister managed to get into Elder’s skates and with the grace that enchanted everyone around, she sashayed through the crowd making even the most keen observer forget about the impossibly dirty crooked skates and focus only on the fair fairy who was about to crash.
Elder looked at the impending collision with the panic and resignation of the losing team who knew they were already too lucky to be competing. Sister flipped around in the air in time to avoid her and Elder fell chest first sliding awkwardly to the shore where lumps of snow and dirt stopped her.
Now she had dirt on her face. “That was a cheap shot!” Elder yelled.
“Maybe that’s got something to do with the price of eggs,” Sister said forcing her lips into a smirk.
Thanks for stopping by
This was also my entry to @mariannewest and @latino.romano’s 5 Minute Freewrite: Wednesday Prompt: dirt on face. You can see the details here.
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